Say This Sooner
by Strike To Incinerate
Summary: [Rock HowardNinon Beart. Post KOF 2k6Maximum Impact 2.] At least she wasn't cradling her cleavage or trying to boss him around. Still, involuntarily, he stepped back and gave her a halfcurious once over with befuddled crimson eyes. [R&R please.]


**Say This Sooner**

**A Rock Howard and Ninon Beart Fanfiction. First one EVER. Yay!**

**By: Strike To Incinerate**

**(Completed 6.20.07)**

_Disclaimer: I do not own King of Fighters, King of Fighters Maximum Impact, KOF2k6, or Garou: Mark of the Wolves in any way. They all belong to their respective owners... I do not own any characters, places, etc. The only thing I own is this little oneshot, but I have no intention of selling it. Ever. I also do not own the lyrics. They belong to the band, 'the Almost' and the song is called, 'Say This Sooner'. Give it a listen._

_Author's Note: Alright, so... I wrote a Kasumi/Iori oneshot that is in need of some major revising. I picked up my copy of KOF2k6, and started playing again a few days ago... wasn't playing Iori, though. My best character is Ninon Beart. I discovered that she, like B. Jenet (another favorite unlockable character. Sorry for the spoilers?) hits on poor, awkward, emo little Rock Howard. However... she wasn't being a slut about it. So it made me go, "Aww..." because who doesn't like seeing an emo and a goth hookup? That's why fangirls buy into the Shingo/Iori pairing. XD Just kidding. We all know that Shingo could never pass for Goth. Anyway! I decided to write a oneshot. Enjoy! Because... I wrote this by hand, sitting in my living room while That 70's Show and Scrubs played in the background, and it was eight pages long. Probably not so long on OpenOffice. I also edited and revised it a million times and pulled out any typos I could find. I also tapped into the Practice Mode on 2k6 to actually find out the names of all of Rock and Ninon's moves._

_Pairings: Ninon/Rock. Don't like it? Don't read. I think they're cute! Kasumi/Iori (not in this fanfiction, but in general), Alba/Chae Lim, and Soiree/Mignon. Because... those pairings rock, and Luise Meyrink should be shot. She's not that pretty, at all. Her Another outfits are FUGLY. They are super fugly. And the Normal ones aren't much better. And her accent makes me go, 'Wtf. You're not even really German. You're an alien. Why do you have an accent? Are Zoans German? I don't THINK SO.' Then again, I don't know, because... Falcoon is very skimpy with their plot development. Aliens? COME ON. At least Falcoon designs cute outfits (for everyone except Luise. And... you know... Nagase's Another outfits. Could do without the frog-mitts. Iori's blue owl suit could've been forgotten, too). Back to the point. The Alba/Chae Lim isn't random. This takes place AFTER 'Vindicated', my other KOF fanfiction. In my fandom, Soiree never gets kidnapped by a seven foot cross-dressing alien. EVER. He's going to need a lot of therapy because of that, Falcoon! And you haven't even told him if he and his twin brother are both the same alien yet!_

For the record, "this" is dialog, _'this'_ is thinking, and **this** is lyrics, which I DON'T OWN. -- is a lapse in time, because I'm too lazy to type out certain things. Like... basketball games.

--

**I can't believe I didn't say this sooner...**

Rock was more confused that surprised when the petite, platinum haired girl had giggled bewitchingly and told him boldly that he was just her type. Sure, he was flattered, but she wasn't the first, or second, but the third girl to try to hit on him during the tournament. First it was that blond pirate girl, then that little ninja geek... well, she HAD called him a pretty boy! Wasn't pretty a compliment? And now this creepy, violet-eyed Goth Loli doll...

At least she wasn't cradling her cleavage or trying to boss him around. Still, involuntarily, he stepped back and gave her a half-curious once over with befuddled crimson eyes.

**I'll just believe that I was all displaced.**

And the two girls that he did like, two Asian girls his age, slightly tomboyish and seemingly down-to-earth, had already made plans to hang out with each other, leaving his only option an annoying pink-haired girl. And Soiree Meira had already slapped a 'Do Not Touch' sign on her back. Plus... Chae Lim was Alba's girlfriend, so that was a big no-no. Friends did not take friends girlfriends out on dates.

He didn't reply to her compliment, but began the battle. His Shining Knuckles met the fury of a dusty rose tornado. A column of ferocious purple energy, exploding from the ground in rippling, swirling ribbons became his defense from an onslaught of meteorites sent by the goddess of darkness and witch, Hecate, to aid her faithful servant. Her loud incantation, demonic gibberish to him, rang in his ears as she levitated ten feet from the ground, over the roar of the Raging Storm.

The battle came to an abrupt end when he charged through the crackling ball of blue and purple electricity she'd conjured and launched her into the air with a Rising Tackle. She landed on the ground with a sickening slam.

**I'll get to speaking, let you know how I feel.**

His breath came in heavy pants, his shoulder shaking as he went to check if she was alright. She was five foot even, no more than a hundred pounds. That move could've killed a normal person.

Ninon Beart was as far from normal as a human being could get. Without, of course, being a vessel for an alien's consciousness, or a demon god.

"Hey... Nothing broken, right?" he asked, offering a hand to help her up.

She grabbed her shoulder, checking the joint. Her pale face contorted into a wince of pain. Her delicate hand moved to her elbow, and she gave her arm a sharp push back into the socket.

Rock winced at the unnatural 'pop'.

"I'm fine now," she said, accepting his hand and just... sitting there.

He blinked at her, and she blinked back. His hand was beginning to sweat.

"Pull me up," she said sharply.

"O-oh..." His face heated up, and he gave her hand a tug, lifting her to her feet. "Is your knee dislocated, too?" he asked innocently.

Her eyes narrowed. "No."

"Oh... so..."

"You're dense," she told him bluntly.

**I'll get to judging make you see my appeal.**

"No. I'm Rock Howard. Nice to meet you," he replied.

"Ninon Beart," she said, then pulled her hand away and wiped it on her skirt. "Let me ask you something, Rock... if I had said that my knee was dislocated, would you have carried me to a bench and then called for an ambulance, or left me on the ground while you fumbled with your cellphone?" she inquired snidely.

He was taken aback, left mouth gaping and wide-eyed. "Um..." he floundered. "Does this mean I'm not really your type?" he guessed.

_'Stupid! She may be cynical and creepy, but she'd cute! And you're gonna blow it! How do you manage to say everything wrong to every girl you meet?'_ his mind shouted at him.

She giggled at him, pressing a finger to her chin. She shook her head.

"You're funny. I still like you, Rock Howard."

_'I'm... funny?'_

**No one will ever see these things the way I do  
No one will try.**

"So, uh, do you play basketball, Ninon Beart?" he asked her.

"Basketball?" she questioned.

He chuckled. "It's a game. I can teach you..." He looked her over again. "You're not really dressed for a game, though," he finished.

She looked down at her skirt. "Oh, you're right. My tights are ripped. I have to change... my hotel's right around the corner. Wait here. I'll be back," she told him, then mumbled something in Latin. She glowed violet, just a shade lighter than her eye color.

_'Well... that's cool.'_

"Uh, okay. You mist want to wear pants or something..."

She was already gone.

And had returned just as quickly.

He felt a tap on her shoulder. He spun around and jumped. "Whoa!"

"Did I scare you?" she asked with a proud grin.

He nodded, swallowing dryly.

She wasn't wearing the triple-skirted, corseted, high collared black Gothic Lolita dress. It had been replaced by a dark purple vest over a long sleeved, button down, collared black silk shirt. A black skort, adorned with ribbons and a huge, silk flower on one side, slit high up on the thigh to reveal the shorts underneath, black and purple knee high, lace up sneakers, and black thigh-high stockings covered the lower half of Ninon's petite body. The same black headband with the gaudy flower on it was stuck in her platinum locks.

She looked ready for a game of super-cute basketball.

**All my friends think that I'm gone, but I swear  
****I swear I'm not.**

"It's rude to stare," she said in a pointed and well-annunciated way.

He found himself blushing again, running a hand through his sunshine strands. "Sorry, Ninon. You ready to play?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Lead the way," she said.

"Right. After you," he replied, pushing open the door for her. She liked that chivalric stuff, didn't she?

She gave him a funny look. "I don't know where we're going, so what's the point?"

"Oh. Right," he agreed, amazed by her ability to make him feel like the most ignorant loser to grace Southtown. "Just... trying to be a gentleman," he mumbled as they began to walk side-by-side down the sidewalk.

Southtown wasn't much to look at. The recent fire that had swept through the city left the scent of smoke perpetually in the air, and once beautiful buildings and churches were empty skeletons made of toasted wood, broken glass, forgotten doorways, and singed front steps. Recent gang activity left anything made of brick, steel, or granite less than a story high riddled with graffiti and the once bustling streets of this decrepit city empty and eerily quiet, except for the occasional passerby or rowdy street fight. But, Rock had been born here, and couldn't call anywhere else his hometown, so this place still had it's good points.

Like the abundance of rundown basketball courts. Most of the nets were barely hanging on, like the 'no littering' and anti-drug signs on the chain link fences surrounding the courts. The metal and concrete poles had been dented from disputes over what constituted a foul, and most of the paint, on the backboards and the actual courts, was faded, but they were usable, and since no one was going to clean them up, no one cared.

**This makes me feel that I'll never be quite normal.**

"So, this basketball. What's it about?" she asked him.

"It's kind of complicated. A bunch of guys on two teams, and there's one orange ball, see? And the object of the game is to get the ball into this hoop ten or fifteen feet above the ground. You get two point for every shot, and three if you make it from the half-oval in front of the hoop," he explained. She moved closer to him, slipping her small hand into his and lacing her fingers against his (shredded) leather-covered digits... suddenly, he felt giant and awkward. Her hands were TINY. And he wasn't that big, himself! "Good idea. This isn't the best, uh, neighborhood... gangs and stuff."

When she didn't say anything, he realized his latest faux pas.

"Oh, yeah, KOF... speaking of which, what was all that purple stuff? You're not an Orochi like Iori Yagami and Leona Heidern, are you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. It's black magic," she explained shortly.

"Really?"

"What, you don't believe me, Rock Howard?"

He laughed. "Trust me... any KOF veteran has seen more unusual things, Ninon Beart," he said, giving her a shy smile. Like his uncontrollable bloodrage.

She looked away.

"Sorry, I didn't mean..." he began.

She cut him off. "Is this our destination?" she asked suddenly.

**This makes me act like I'll never get out alive.**

He stopped, surprised. Glancing to his right, he gave a quick nod. "You sure you've never played basketball before, Ninon?" he asked her.

"You mentioned an orange ball... they seem to be manhandling each other for it," she quipped, reciting her observation. "I'm not an idiot."

He shook his head as he lifted the latch on the gate and pushed it open. "I didn't mean..." he began to apologize.

Of course, the closest court was occupied.

"Hey guys, look! Rock brought a chick!" One of the guys announced.

"Man, she's creepy looking! That's the kind of girl he goes for?" another asked.

The rest laughed, and a third added, "At least now we know he even goes for girls. Dude, we were worried that you were..."

"I'm not gay, Rico!" Rock shouted. Ninon smirked.

"Touchy," Rico muttered.

**I'll get to acting, make you all believe me...**

"Hey, you heard the kid. Ease off," a man in a lot of red and black leather said.

"Yeah, you heard my bro! If Rock says that he doesn't play for the other team, then he doesn't!" the man's twin added.

"Oh, Ninon... This is Alba Meira, and his brother, Soiree," Rock started, but the black witch's attention was drawn to the two young women sitting on the bench. One had chunky black hair with the same white streaks as Alba's, and clear gray eyes. The other had chocolate hues and rose-pink hair that curled only at the ends.

The pink-haired girl looked over at her. "Ninon! What are you doing here?" she asked, standing up.

Ninon stepped towards the bench. "I could ask you the same, dear sister," she replied, her tone venomous.

"Hey, listen, short and gothy... don't mess with the Don's girls," one of the gang members warned her.

The other girl's face flamed and her eyes narrowed, the gray orbs turning stormy. "I'm not his girl!" she said hotly.

"Then... what're you doing here? 'Cuz I don't think you came for the game," the gangster replied in an equally cool tone.

Alba stepped up behind him, gripping his shoulder. "Don't talk to Chae Lim that way," he commanded, then released him and continued on to the young woman. "Sorry about that. Come on... I promised you a date, and I think Rock was planning a one-on-one..."

Mignon scowled. "Mignon came to see Alba and Soiree play and to keep her friend company!" she huffed. She turned her scowl on Rock, who floundered under it. "And that better not be an innuendo, Alba! Mignon will kill your friend if he touches Ninon inappropriately!"

"I... I won't... I promise...!" Rock stammered.

Ninon teleported back to him with the same violet flash, nudging his side with her elbow. "If you can't stand up to my sister, I really will lose interest in you," she warned.

"Sorry, Ninon... but I really... I won't take advantage of you..." he mumbled to her.

The black witch looked to the white witch. "Back off. I can handle one awkward, emotionally retarded, virgin teenaged boy, SIS."

"H-hey!" Rock protested.

"Fine!" Mignon huffed, standing and leading Soiree away by the wrist. Alba and Chae Lim chuckled and followed them.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Soiree advised in a good natured way, over his shoulder, "OUCH! Mignon! Don't do that! That HURTS!" shortly proceeded in a loud, pained tone.

**I'll get to faking, show you all how to grieve.**

"So... ready to play basketball, Ninon Beart?" the crimson eyed blond asked, heading towards the discarded orange ball. He bounced it a few times, and she watched carefully. "That's called dribbling. You try it." He checked the ball to her.

She mimicked the dribbling.

"Alright. That's good!" he congratulated her. "Now, let's teach you to shoot!"

But as he stepped towards her, she smirked and began to dribble towards the hoop.

"Hey, not so fast!" he laughed, reaching out for her. His arms snaked around her waist, drawing her close. He situated her in front of himself, and began to position her arms.

"Watch it," she warned softly. "Remember what my sister said..."

He smiled, but he could see his fingers trembling. Her neatly coiffed hair brushed against his shirt as she looked up at the hoop, and the cool autumn dusk suddenly seemed unseasonably warm. She smelled like incense and patchouli oil... and faintly, like coconut-scented conditioner.

"Okay, now..." He licked his lips and swallowed hard. "Aim for that red square above the rim. See if?" She nodded, the feather light strands tickling his chest. He bent his head, burying his nose in her hair.

Soft, silky, and definitely coconut-scented.

"What're you doing?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Your hair smells... orgasmic. Sorry," he apologized.

_'Orgasmic? What kind of a word is that? A PERV WORD, that's what!'_

"Orgasmic?" she repeated, smirking again.

"Too strong an adjective?" he guessed.

**In and out is where it gets back to the place**

Swish.

She turned to face him. "Sinful would've been more appropriate, but I suppose orgasmic is much more flattering," she answered.

His nose was an inch from her forehead, his crimson orbs staring down into her orchid hues.

"I'll make you a deal, Rock Howard... if I score fifteen points before you do... you have to take me on a real date. Deal?" she offered.

_'What if I let you win, Ninon Beart?'_ he wondered.

--

He laughed as she walked away from him. "Come on, admit it, you cheated!" he called to her, brushing his sweat drenched bangs out of his face as he carried his jacket over his other arm.

"Define... cheating, Rock," Ninon beseeched with a mischievous grin.

"You teleported in front of me every time I went to the hoop, and you kept... moving the ball!" he retorted, shaking his head.

"Now, Rock... it's called winning," she chided. "Don't be a sore loser."

"But, it was cheating."

"No, it wasn't."

And then Rock noticed that Ninon was walking backwards towards the orange basketball.

"Hey, Ninon, watch out!" he cautioned.

"For what?"

**It does make me feel like I just wanna be...  
****Just like it's touch...**

But it was a little too late. Her right platform sneaker came down on the ball. It rolled forward, and she lost her balance, falling to the court. "Damn!" she swore.

He rushed forward to help her, but his foot caught a piece on concrete that had broken away from the sidewalk and long since been kicked around inside the court by idle feet. He fell to his knees, staring down at her.

"Oh... God, Ninon, I'm sorry!" he yelped, starting to get up.

She grabbed his arm. "No, it's fine. I left the ball there."

"Don't blame yourself... Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, uh... more, did I?" he asked anxiously.

"Rock," she stated calmly. "I moved that rock there. Don't worry about it."

His brows furrowed together. "What... why?"

One of her hands brushed against his cheek, her thumb teasing his earlobe. She pushed herself up, pressing her lips against his.

"Oh. Okay," he lamely agreed when she pulled away.

"Yes... you didn't kiss me... when you were teaching me to shoot... so I had to get you close enough again, somehow, stupid," she explained.

He didn't bother to point out that a simple, 'Come here' would've sufficed.

Instead, he apologized again. "Oh, sorry... Here, let me help you up," he offered, fathering her pixie-ish form up into his arms and kissing her. "Ninon..." he murmured her name.

"Less talking, more kissing," she replied.

**No one will ever see these things the way I do  
****No one will try.**

He pulled back. "Now, I'm not arguing... but maybe we should take this indoors?" he suggested.

"Your place?" she asked.

"I promise: I. Will. Not. Take. Advantage. Of. You," he vowed.

"Rock," she sat up, staring him in the eyes, "I think I just took advantage of you. Don't.. Worry. About. It."

"Alright, princess... come on," he said, standing and pulling her up this time.

"Princess?" she questioned.

"Too early for a pet name?"

She shook her head. "No. A little cliché... but I like it," she replied, blowing her hair out of her eyes.

"That's because you ARE a princess," he told her in all seriousness. "A beautiful, conniving, Gothic princess."

She grinned up at him. "Rock Howard, you know you like it."

Yes. Yes, he did.

**All your friends say that you're gone, but you swear...  
****I swear I'm not.**

--

Cue credits and roll the cheesy, coming of age, pop-rock anthem!

Rock/Ninon! First ever fanfiction for them!

12 pages, double spaced, in OpenOffice. FUN. Of course... there was the HUGE author's notes... and the lyrics... so, that's where the extra four pages came in. I had fun writing this (not typing it, though. I hate typing up stuff I've written by hand), and I hope you enjoyed reading it. For the record: I do like playing basketball, but only with friends. So... I have a general lack of knowledge about the sport. I'm more of a volleyball person.

Please, please, please Review now. It'll take you thirty seconds, and it makes me really, really, REALLY happy. Even if you didn't like the pairing. Constructive criticism is appreciated, all flames are stolen by Ash Crimson.


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